Flightless Bird
by empireofapples
Summary: But hopes are shy birds flying at a great distance seldom reached by the best of guns - Cinna is captured. He knew it was going to happen, but he just dreaded that his Girl on Fire had to see it.


**Flightless Bird**

_But hopes are shy birds flying at a great distance seldom reached by the best of guns._

He knew something was going to happen. The Capitol had been a fury of flames and thoughts all night – Portia had told him that much for he refused to leave his small office in the Remake Center of the Tributes' Tower. All night, he had been putting the final touches of his secret project, ready to ship it off to his contact when the time came – but he knew if everything went as was thoroughly planned, Cinna would never be seeing this book again.

There was one just like it – the one that he had given to his Girl on Fire before the Victory Tour as part of her 'talent'. They had held a small moment of amusement over such a thing, but it was what it was.

They were identical if put beside one another, but once someone looked inside, anyone could tell they had different purposes. Katniss' was specifically for designs that Cinna knew she would love for him to design. He always put his emotions into his designs – that way he only hurt himself.

In all the designs, it screamed his emotions. From the beautiful red coat and matcing white scarf – a reminder of the horrible demise of the sweet girl, Rue – to the deep gray dress and matching green hat – a reminder of his Girl on Fire finding the Boy with the Bread under the rocks and moss of the small creek. He knew she didn't know every meaning behind the works of clothing, but he knew she had some idea. Katniss was more worried about keeping those around her safe, that she couldn't even find the small hidden things in his designs like she used to.

_Like she used to._

So much had changed in the last year that he had known the brave and courageous Katniss Everdeen. They had gone from complete strangers as tribute and stylist, to a friendship that only years of being together could produce.

And here he was, the knowledge that something was going to happen the second she was out of his arms.

"I'm still betting on you," he told her, and her arms tightened around him just a little more. And then the robotic female voice filled the room, and they were told that this was the end.

He knew something was going to happen, and it did.

As soon as the slot to the clear tube closed, the door to the room burst open with three Peacekeepers, and he was instantly knocked unconscious. His last vision was of Katniss Everdeen fighting against the thick glass, screaming deafly at him as she was slowly raised into the arena, and Cinna slowly dragged away.

She disappeared into the bright sunlight, and Cinna's vision went dark –

**FLIGHTLESS BIRD**

The smell of rust and sterilizing chemicals, along with a bucket of water being splashed in his face, roused Cinna from the darkness. Standing before him was President Snow, dressed in a dark suit, which contrasted with the single blooming white rose on his lapel. He wasn't sure if the blood he smelled was his own, or Snow's.

"Cinna," his deep voice rumbled, echoing in the bare torturing room. "We've been watching you for years." Cinna knew that, yet he still did as he pleased – but only in a way that he himself would be punished for his wrongdoings, and no one else. "I fear the time had come that we must ask you some questions."

Saliva began to gather in his mouth, and with a thought of a certain Effie Trinket scolding him for such bad behavior, Cinna spat out at the President of Panem. A nice big wad of blood-enlaced saliva globbed on the white rose of his lapel.

There was a tense moment of silence before a loud _smack_ reverberated in the room. Cinna's version swarmed with color, and his cheek felt sore.

"I had a feeling you were going to be like this."

And then as if on cue, the door to the barren room opened, and two peacekeepers dragged in a body. It was feminine, dressed in only a white paper dress, but Cinna knew who it was. The violet and blue tattoos crawling up her legs and arms gave that away immediately. His heart clenched in terror.

There was a sack over her head, hiding her face from him – how long had it been since they had seen one another? Her nails, usually a bright rainbow of colors, were chipped and broken. Her skin was like ash, but the tattoos were still as bright as the day she had gotten them.

"So I brought in some… persuasion."

And then she began to move, fighting weakly against the hold on her biceps that the two Peacekeepers had. The one on her right reached forward and pulled the blinder off her head. Instantly, green eyes met artificial purple. She stopped struggling, and her already smudged makeup dripped more as tears pulled at it. The only thing that stayed was the permanent swirl of silver on the outside of her eye lids.

"Cinna," she whispered, and there was hope in her voice. Hope that he didn't have. "I'm so sorry Cinna," she told him, her once song-like voice cracked and broken like her nails.

"It's going to be okay, Thyra," he told her, yearning to reach out and wipe away the smudged makeup so to see her beautiful face once again. "It's going to be—"

But his words were deafened by his scream as he watched a knife be buried in her back, slicing right through her weak love-broken heart. Her purple eyes widened for a moment. And then the tears turned to blood, and her chest stopped moving. They looked at each other, but the light was gone in her eyes. Her skin grew cold almost immediately. The blue and purple tattoos still glimmered in the ugly fluorescent light.

"THYRA!" he screamed over and over. Her blood plopped on the tile floor and slowly swirled down into the drain in the middle of the room. "Thyra," he said one last time. They would do whatever they could to break him – and he was as broken as broken could be.

Katniss was safe. His Girl on Fire would always be safe. District 13 was alive and ready to help her through what he couldn't. Cinna had done his job better than anyone ever could. It was all up to Katniss Everdeen now.

"Now that, that is out of the way…" Snow waved his hand and the two Peacekeepers dropped Thyra's body to the ground. It made a sick plop in the puddle of blood. Cinna couldn't stop staring at the purple eyes that looked at him. Thyra was all he had left. And now she was gone, just as he would be in a matter of moments. "Tell me what you know about District 13, Cinna," President Snow continued.

When he didn't answer right away, still staring at the cold, dead, flawed body of his sister. His little sister. The one soul that made all of the Capitol not seem so cruel and ugly. Snow repeated his question again, but he didn't get Cinna's attention until he kicked at Thyra's head, causing their eyes to finally lose that last connection.

Cinna screamed in rage, fighting against his bonds. That hope that Thyra had had, it was gone forever. No one could have that hope anymore – not in the Capitol, not in the Districts, not in all of Panem and the rest of the destroyed world. The hope that Cinna had seen in Thyra's eyes was as dead as she was now. Cinna's last hope of sanity was gone. They would give Katniss what she needed.

"I said tell me about District 13!" Snow yelled, plucking the knife from Thyra's back and stepping forward, welding it in his hand. Cinna sneered, earning a deep slash on his right cheek from the knife covered in his little sister's blood. "I want ask again."

Snow's voice was thick with malice. He could hear scurrying feet and shouting, pleading voices just outside the room.

He could hear Portia, and Octavia, and Flavius and Venia. Then there was the slamming of doors and silence again.

It was only Cinna and Snow now. There was another slash, this time at his chest. Cinna hissed, but said nothing. His eyes were far off – looking in the opposite direction of his sister.

"You have nothing against me now, Snow," Cinna told him through clenched teeth. Snow grinned, and a fresh wave of the scent of blood took over his sense of smell. He gagged slightly.

"We'll see about that."

He pressed something on the wall above Cinna's head, and a screen came out of the wall in front of him. He squinted his hazy eyes, trying to see the picture clearly, and his breath hitched when he say it.

"Peeta," he said, voicing the name of the boy that he had specifically told Plutarch to save alongside Katniss.

"Seems I've got one last trick up my sleeve, doesn't it?"

The blonde haired, blue eyed boy looked up, and saw a matching screen. His lips read Cinna's name, since there was no sound coming from the screen. Peeta fought and moved against the bonds on his arms and legs. Cinna gave a sad look.

"But it seems I have no more use for you now that I have this lovely boy."

And then the knife dug into his belly. Peeta screamed deaf words, just as Katniss had, and the screen went black. His vision was dotted with colored dots, and then black took over his vision. His chest began to move, but there was a heavy weight on it. He fell to the floor, his leaking blood slowly swirling down into the drain just as his sister's was.

_Katniss… I'm still betting on you, Girl on Fire._

And Cinna's last thoughts were on his Girl on Fire. The Mockingjay that was once flightless and now taking to the fire-raining skies.


End file.
